Teenage Dream
by nativekawaiians
Summary: High School AU: Alfred Jones looks forward to the bittersweet experience of his senior year in high school. Arthur Kirkland, the British exchange student, is not so thrilled, especially not with the boisterous and popular jock Alfred hanging around. Over the course of one short year, both meet new friends and experience trials that teach them about themselves and each other. USUK
1. Chapter 1: The First-Last Day

With a sense of pride, Alfred stepped out of his newly refurbished 1969 Mustang, the car he had worked all summer for. A nostalgic feeling washed over him as he started making his way through the parking lot, towards the large brick building that was James K. Polk High School. It was the last first day of high school, and Alfred felt the strangest sensation surge through him. He remembered stepping onto the campus as a little freshman, a bit nervous but overly excited. Now it was four years later. Alfred felt like he had been here forever. Strange that this was the beginning of the end.

Once a scrawny kid, donning thin wire glasses and scruffy hair, Alfred had shot up about a foot and gained a considerable amount of muscle mass. He now strode across the front lawn quite confidently, waving at various acquaintances. He still wore the glasses and his hair was still quite ruffled, but they only contributed to his charming character. Several girls appeared to swoon as he made his way to the concrete entrance.

"YEEEEEEEEAAHHHH, THE HERO'S BACK!" A roughly accented voice shouted for all of campus to hear. Alfred was suddenly jerked into a headlock, and took a noogie to the skull.

"Alfred F. BRO-NES!" Another voice with a different, but still harsh accent contributed to the obnoxious chanting.

"Whoa whoa whoa guys, take it easy," Alfred said, breaking free of the ambusher. He straightened his glasses and ran a hand through his sandy hair. "No concussions this season okay?"

"You got it captain," the first ambusher said with a big grin and a cheesy thumbs up. It was Gilbert Beilschmidt, his German (though he insisted it was "Prussian") teammate.

"This year, we're going to state!" Mathias Kohler, the Danish exchange student bellowed.

"STATE! STATE! STATE! STATE!" The teammates chanted, whooping and high-fiving.

"From the sound of the satanic chanting it looks like there's a new bro cult on campus," a snarky voice commented. It was Elizaveta making a comment to a shy looking freshman girl, but she obviously intended for the boys to hear it.

"Why good morning, Lizzie," Gilbert greeted, oozing of fake charm. "Nope, it's not new, just the same old cult from last year."

"Ugh, jocks," she muttered. "Come on Lili, I'll introduce you to Roderich." The girls left in a cloud of perfume.

"Oooooooh, Roderich," Gilbert mocked. He kicked a stray pebble.

"I thought she finally went on a date with you this summer," Mathias questioned.

"Pssh, bullshit," Gilbert muttered. "I'm pretty sure that was some attempt to make that piano-playing pansy jealous. I'm over it."

"Sucks man," Alfred offered. He wasn't too great with sympathy or advice. "Well I'm gonna go find Matt. See you guys at practice."

"See ya," Mathias said.

"I need a snack," Gilbert said bitterly. The two turned to the nearby vending machine. Alfred had almost reached the door to the main building when a shout caught his attention.

"WHY DOESN'T SHE LOVE MEEEE?" Gilbert bellowed, kneeling on the concrete, slamming his fists against the machine. It appeared that his package of Doritos had gotten stuck in the machine.

Alfred smiled as he walked into AP Calculus, such a familiar place. "Whaddup, Mr. Mascritolo?"

Mr. Mascritolo, a stocky, lethargic middle-aged man seemed quite distraught to have the overly energetic star in his class, yet again.

"Hey it's Alfred!"

"The Hero! Where've ya been all summer!?"

"We missed you!"

"Eh not much," Alfred answered the small group of his peers. "Finally saved enough for a car."

The group went ballistic.

"Dude what car?"

"Oh my God, can we ride in it at lunch?"

"No Alfred, take me!"

"Can I please drive it?"

"1969 Mustang," Alfred answered. "And sure, but we'll have to go in turns. But driving it's gonna be off limits."

Some of the guys then turned to the topic of football, which Alfred excitedly rambled on about; how excited he was just to go to practice, how they were gonna crush every team they faced, how he hoped to get a scholarship. The girls kind of just swooned in the background.

Finally Alfred made his escape and found his best friend among the crowd. Matthew Williams had already taken their usual seats in the far right row next to the window.

"Matt, my man," Alfred said, going in for a fist bump. A series of taps and various high-fives ensued: their secret handshake.

"Its so familiar," Matthew commented, glancing around the room.

It was the usual post-summer scene. Girls greeted the friends they hadn't seen since June with squeals and hugs. Summer stories flew through the air on tasteless but normal topics: "So I went to this party and man I got so wasted . . . " and "Yeah, you could say I banged her . . ." Some of the less "social" kids holed up in their own corner playing on the latest Nintendo DS and trading Pokemon cards. Below the chatter, the sounds of paper shuffling and frantic scribbling could be heard from both the nerds who wanted to perfect their summer homework and the slackers who need to finish – or start their summer homework.

By now Alfred knew all the faces. Funny, that just four years ago he barely knew any of them. Not even Matt. Now he considered many of them his friends, or at least his acquaintances. Until he saw –

"Wait, Matt who's that?" Alfred asked puzzled, pointing a finger.

On the other side of the room sat a rather attractive blonde guy reading a book and acting quite uninterested in the busy scene around him. He stuck out a bit, due to his overly nice attire. Button-down shirt, khaki pants, and a sweater vest – in this heat? Alfred was wearing a neat button-down himself with new jeans; it was basically a first day of school code. Everyone looked nice today, but they didn't look quite as dressed up as the mysterious newbie. Alfred also noticed an earring glinting in the guy's ear.

"Strange dude," Alfred commented, a bit puzzled.

"Whoaaa his eyebrows," Matt commented. Alfred chuckled a bit upon noticing what he was talking about. Not in a mean way really. It was just a little amusing.

The ringing of the bell distracted his thoughts. The few stragglers rushed into the room and scanned it quickly for a seat. Mr. Mascritolo slowly stood up from his desk as if it was the most difficult task in the world.

"Alright, welcome to AP Calculus," he announced dully.

"MR. M & M, ALRIIIIGHT!" Mathias shouted from the back of the room. He and Gilbert lead a class-wide applause.

"You're just too kind," said the disgruntled educator. "Well congrats on all making it to your senior year. We've lost so many along the way, students who couldn't keep up with the rigor of Algebra II or Geometry or Pre-calculus. Ya'll made it."

Alfred zoned out after a bit. They had really made it. Here he and his classmates were, sitting in a senior class in the seats where many seniors had sat before them. His eyes somehow drifted back to the mysterious blonde guy. What was he doing here? Why would someone transfer senior year? He couldn't imagine spending it without his friends at Polk. Wasn't senior year supposed to be the last shabang? The final days of being a kid and screwing around with your friends?

Suddenly he felt someone shoving his shoulder. "Attendance man," Matthew said.

"Jones, Alfred?" Mr. Mascritolo called for the third time.

"YEAH AL!" yelled Gilbert. Everyone else in the room either clapped or giggled. Alfred flashed a smile, though slightly embarrassed.

"Alright chill out," Mr. Mascritolo said sternly. "Kirkland, Arthur?" He continued.

The room was silent except for a few last giggles. After an awkward pause, Mr. Mascritolo noticed the hand that was raised in the air.

It belonged to the blond guy. Hmm. Arthur Kirkland.

"New exchange student from England?" Mr. Mascritolo asked, not looking up from the roster.

"Yes," Arthur replied, his accent confirming that he was in fact, from England.

Every head seemingly turned in unison to stare at the new foreigner. Many of the girls didn't even try to contain their excitement.

"Oh my god, so you have, like, an accent?"

"Did you live in London? Wait, have you ever met the queen?"

"Do you really like tea that much I mean what's so great about it?"

"Do you watch _Doctor Who_? Because it's literally my favorite."

"What sum auf m' crispsh?" Gilbert asked, in an attempt to be culturally aware. His mouth was full of Doritos and his fingers were bright orange.

Arthur, unlike Alfred was definitely not as excited to be the center of attention. Lucky for him, the deafing sound of feedback crackled through the PA system.

"At this time all students and staff should make their way to the welcome ceremony in the gym . . . At this time all students and staff should make their way to the welcome ceremony in the gym."

Ah the welcome ceremony. Alfred didn't get why they didn't just call it a pep rally. Pushing among the throngs of people filing into the doors, Alfred finally caught a glimpse into the gym. The cheerleaders danced while the drumline played a cadence, enhanced with fancy stick tricks. The marching band came in playing the school fight song, and then a Lady Gaga medley. The wall was adorned with giant posters that screamed "Welcome back!" and dozens of red and navy balloons. This was the assembly where everyone got to see what was in store for the next year. It was a time where the whole school really came together.

"Aren't you announcing about the football team?" Matt asked Alfred as the pushed through the crowd, searching for seats in the bleachers.

"Yup, I get to do that." The two finally caught up with Gilbert and Mathias, who had found the rest of the football team.

Finally, once all the students had settled into the bleachers, Principal Evans walked into the middle of the gym. He was a short, balding man with a bushy mustache and a bit of a hunchback. A great peel of feedback echoed through the room, finally causing the students to simmer down.

"Hello, and welcome back to James K. Polk High School. To our new students, welcome. We hope your school days will be filled with education, virtue, and happiness."

"PENIS!" Someone called out from the crowd. The entire student body burst into laughter.

"Attention- ATTENTION!" Mr. Evans shouted. He gave up and simply tapped the mic until another peel of feedback sounded.

"Moving on from that little interruption, I'm going to hand this party over to your ASB president, Elizaveta Hedervay."

"Good ole' Evans," Alfred said, clapping.

"Wow Elizaveta. WHO DO YOU THINK HELPED YOU MAKE ALL THOSE ELECTION POSTERS? WHO DO YOU THINK SPREAD THAT RUMOR THAT RODERICH IS SUCH A PRUDE THAT HE SHOWERS IN HIS SWIM TRUNKS?"

"Dammit Gilbert," several team members chorused. Mathias gave him a good punch in the shoulder.

"Hello dear students," Elizaveta said confidently into the mic. "I'm your ASB president Elizaveta Hedervay."

"No shit the hunchback just said that," Gilbert grumbled. He received another punch.

Elizaveta went on to discuss the various activities that would take place that year. _Prom at a lavish lakeside lodge! The underclassmen-upperclassmen buddy trip to Six Flags! Free pizza Friday for people who received above a 3.0 GPA!_

At last she was finished. She tossed her glossy brown hair and handed the mic back to Evans.

"And next up, Varsity Football Captain, Alfred Jones," he announced. The gym exploded into cheers. Even the band kids, the mathletes, and the stoners, people who weren't supposed to care about sports, cheered for Alfred.

"Alright, hey Polk!" Alfred began.

"ALFRED I LOVE YOU!" Someone shouted.

"Oh stop flattering me," he teased. "Well, yeah let me tell you it's gonna be a huge season this year. We've trained all August and let me tell you these guys have got a strong spirit, am I right?" The football team promptly broke into shouts while stomping their feet on the bleachers.

"I bet you can see why I believe in these guys. I just know they're gonna bring home the STATE CHAMPIONSHIP!" That caused a massive outbreak of cheering and school spirit.

"So I hope I see you all at our first game Friday night. I mean come on even if the game not your thing, cheer's gonna be there, band's gonna be there, and we sell some bomb-ass snacks at the concessions stand so hey just come out and enjoy being an eagle. See you there!"

"ALFRED! ALFRED! ALFRED! ALFRED!"

The chant went on for three minutes before Mr. Evans could grab everyone's attention again.

"Alright, that's enough kids. Thank you Mr. Jones. Though I am not pleased with some of your language." _"Kids and their hip slang nowadays,"_ he muttered quietly, though it was still projected through the mic.

"Our last order of business is to introduce our new foreign exchange students!"

"_Oh yeah,"_ Alfred remembered.

"As many of you know, Polk prides itself in having a very strong cultural exchange program. We have students studying here from Germany, Japan, Hungary, Spain, Italy, and more. In turn, our American students have the option to study away from home as well. We trust that all of our Polk eagles will take these students under their wing – excuse me." Evans had to stop to chuckle at his own joke. "Anyway, I expect all of our students to look out for one another, regardless of where they come from."

"And now our new exchange students will come introduce themselves with their name, grade, the country they are visiting from, and a fact about him or herself."

First up was Lili, the girl who Elizaveta had been escorting earlier. She was in 9th grade, from Liechtenstein, and enjoyed sewing. "Pajamas particularly," she added softly. Her brother Vash was next. He was in 11th grade, from Switzerland, and his dream was to be on _Extreme Couponing _on TLC. Though Alfred was usually interested in finding out who the new kids in school were, this time he was really only waiting for one. A guy from Estonia, one from Korea, a girl from Vietnam. Alfred had zoned out when suddenly, a voice came through the microphone that shook him out of his daze."

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, grade 12, from England, and well I like –" he hesitated. "I like music I guess."

"Interesting," Alfred said.

"Huh?" Matthew asked.

"I dunno, I guess I didn't expect that," Alfred said, slightly intrigued.

"It's not that revealing," Matt pointed out. "Who doesn't like music? Why are you so interested anyway?"

Well that was a good question. Why did he care?

"Hey, Alfred," a group of underclassmen girls called to him. They then broke down into a fit of giggles.

"So Alfred, when should we be at practice this afternoon?"

"Hey let's get pizza or something afterwards."

"We will kick some ASS this year!"

Suddenly it hit him. Alfred was always busy. There were always things to do and people to meet and see and talk to. He had friends to go to for help or to just screw around with. He had comforting memories of this place, with these people. That Arthur guy didn't have any of it. And though he had tried to block the memories from his mind, Alfred knew how he felt.

"Well this guy's obviously alone," Alfred pointed out. "You know I don't like to see people being sad here. Not when there's so much fun stuff to do."

"You like this place a little too much," Matthew said.

"Okay I know it's super cheesy, but you can't deny that you haven't enjoyed it here."

"Okay, yeah," Matthew admitted. "And now there's only a year left."

Alfred thought. "Well a lot happens in a year. There may not be much time left, but I swear I'm gonna make it the best year of Arthur Kirkland's life.


	2. Chapter 2: The Game

Arthur slammed his fist on the snooze button of the headache-inducing alarm clock. Perhaps if he were to lie there long enough, unmoving, time would stay still. He could remain entangled in nice clean sheets, breathing in the fresh new air of an unspoiled day. But all too soon the alarm set off another round of obnoxious rings. Arthur groaned and forced himself out of bed. The minute he stood up, he felt the weight of the oncoming day crash down on his shoulders.

Two weeks had passed since the first day of school, and so far he hated it all. The big brick building with the sprawling lawn. The teachers who claimed he'd feel "right at home" in their dear little classrooms. The girls who swooned over him purely for his accent. Those idiot jocks who walked around like they owned the place.

The wildly popular Varsity Football Captain who was easily the most conceited of them all.

Well he didn't exactly hate everything. He had to admit that the walk to school wasn't terrible. It was actually rather enjoyable. School had started, but summer clearly wasn't over yet. By midday the air would be humid and unbearably stuffy, but in the mornings it was warm and refreshing. Also, his aunt had let him ditch the stupid sweaters and neat slacks once he explained that American kids didn't wear uniforms to school, at least not at his school.

Arthur felt at ease, until the campus came into sight. He sighed and stepped onto the lawn. He had made the mistake of entering through the student parking lot the first day and was nearly flattened by that princess, Elizabeth's (whatever her name was) shiny silver Lexus. He had even been mindful of the fact that people were driving on the opposite side of the road. Apparently traffic rules didn't apply in the student parking lot.

Arthur twitched in annoyance as a plastic pen cap hit him in the shoulder. He only had to get through 6 classes and then he could leave this place for an entire weekend.

"Sorry bro," called the launcher of the projectile. He stumbled over to pick up the pen cap and gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder. He couldn't tell if the stupid bloke was actually sorry or just making fun of him.

Luckily the bell rang, and Mr. Mascritolo turned on the student television network. Oh what a wonderful time for a nap.

"I'm your host, Feliks Lukasiewicz and PolkTV starts right now. So lunch today will consist of meatloaf and cooked peas, wait again? Anyway, let's take it over to your ASB president Elizaveta Hedervary for a totally exciting update." The camera panned over to Elizaveta, but the crew had forgotten to turn down Feliks' mic.

"I really don't see why we can't just get like, Whole Foods or Panera to cater for us I mean that would be soooooo much bet –

The issue was finally resolved, and Elizaveta spoke. "Thank you, Feliks. I agree entirely. I'm Elizaveta Hedervary, your ASB President."

"I FUCKING KNOW ALREADY!" an enraged Gilbert shouted from the back of the classroom. Arthur didn't really get why he was here in his Advanced Placement Calculus class.

"Now I'm sure most of you guys are super excited for the homecoming game next Friday!"

Arthur jumped in his seat as the whole class and likely the neighboring classes, whistled and cheered.

"So yeah, the game is coming up and you know what that means. SPIRIT WEEK!"

Arthur wondered what would happen if he just got up and walked out the door that instant.

"Monday will be hat day, Tuesday will be tacky t-shirt day, Wednesday will be pajama day, Thursday will be silly sock day, and Friday is class color day. As always, Freshman are blue, Sophomores are red, Juniors are green, and Seniors are black. Each day, the most spirited person in each class will win a prize. I can't wait to see you all in your hats on Monday. Back to you Feliks."

Arthur figured it would be much faster if the students would just read the necessary announcements without their silly newscasts. He doubted that any teenager had the sort of attention span required to watch the entire thing.

To prove this point, Arthur zoned out all through calculus.

Despite his best efforts to not bother with anyone, Arthur believed that he had made a friend.

Arthur always came to the library at lunch. No way was he ever going to enter that god-awful cafeteria. Besides, if he did his homework during lunch, he wouldn't have to do it at home.

One day about two weeks ago, the library was quite full. Arthur guessed that there was some surprise test or a paper due.

He liked to sit at a small, secluded table just next to the encyclopedia section. It worked out well, because why would someone come to the library for actual resource books when they could use their phone?

On this particularly busy day, Arthur was working through his Physics homework when a small guy, with black hair that brushed against his dark eyes, gently placed an armload of books on the table and carefully took a seat.

Arthur tried to ignore his presence, but he was curious about his seatmate. And why did he have to choose this table? He tried to peek out of the corner of his eyes as the newcomer pulled out a crisp piece of lined paper, a calculator, and a clean eraser. "Such a serious type," Arthur speculated, until he pulled out a thin mechanical pencil decorated with pictures of bears and sweets. The top of the pencil was adorned with plastic bear ears, rather than an eraser.

"That's an interesting pencil you've got there," Arthur commented, accidentally acknowledging the stranger. The guy was so startled that his pencil flew into the air and he immediately hunched his body over his belongings.

Arthur himself was startled. "No I didn't mean to say it's weird or anything, I just, I don't know you looked so serious and you arranged your things so neatly and then," Arthur paused, breaking into a smile. "Out of nowhere comes this cute pencil." He started laughing.

Suddenly he stopped, nervous about the outcome of his statement, but the guy next to him was laughing too.

"SHHHHHHHH!" an agitated librarian warned. The still mysterious newcomer got up to retrieve his pen and then returned to his seat.

Unsure of what to say, Arthur decided it made sense to give a proper introduction.

"Well, I'm Arthur Kirkland."

For a moment he felt unsure. The mystery guy's eyes had lost their laughter and returned to a serious state.

"Honda, Kiku," he replied with a small bow.

"Well brilliant."

Though they didn't always talk much, the two slowly did learn more about each other. Kiku said he was a junior, visiting from Japan. He definitely took school seriously for he spent most of his time diligently studying. Or diligently reading comics. ("Manga, they are called," he mentioned.) Arthur explained that he was from England.

"London?" Kiku asked.

"Tokyo?" Arthur asked, in a slightly annoyed tone. He was asked that at least twice each day.

Kiku was quiet for a moment. "I understand. No, I am from a small city no one here will know of. I understand. My apologies."

Arthur accepted the oddly formal apology. "I'm sorry as well. I just think it's unbelievable how people think London is literally the only place in England." Kiku nodded.

"And that I've met the queen? What do people think I can just walk on in to the palace and request to see my dear old friend, the queen? No!" Kiku gave a small snort of laughter.

"The worst is when the girls ask me if I've met One Direction. Bloddy hell no! Yes, all British people must know all other British people! Perfect logic!" Arthur knew he was ranting, but it felt so good.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The librarian warned threateningly. There was a drawback to spending time in the library.

On that particular day, Arthur had pulled out his calculus homework. It was the most tedious and he really did not want to deal with it later. The problem was, he couldn't seem to be able to make any sense out of it. Actually, the class had been becoming increasingly more challenging.

"Uh, Kiku?" Arthur asked gently. Kiku was often far too absorbed in his own work to help Arthur. This would probably be the case today. Arthur sighed as he watched Kiku jot down annotations for some short story they were reading in AP Language and Composition. Arthur thought it sounded like a wonderful class, but his counselor wouldn't let him sign up. "It's an 11th grade class," she had told him. Arthur really didn't see how that was a valid argument.

He turned back to his calculus notes. Oh wait, he had spent class this morning gazing out the window. He had no notes.

Frustrated, he put his homework away and pulled out "The Importance of Being Earnest". They were reading it in Lit and while he knew he would get ahead of the class, Arthur enjoyed it too much to stop.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded from the checkout counter.

"So we went coning, right? I was so excited because I'd never done it before -"

It was loud excited voice, the kind that could make any boring story lively. The voice of Alfred Jones. He was checking out a book and talking to some football team friend of his.

"But then they gave us the ice cream in a cup! I mean come on man! At least it tasted good-"

Arthur went back to reading. However, his peace did not last long.

"Hey Arthur! Kiku!"

Arthur slowly looked up in disdain, straight into the bright, excited eyes of Alfred Jones.

"Good afternoon," Arthur responded, politely but coldly. Alfred pulled out a chair and sat himself right down. How dare he invade Arthur's table.

Oh, and Kiku's table as well. Arthur glanced over at his friend. He would expect Kiku to just ignore their visitor. To his surprise, Kiku had bent further over his book, allowing his hair to completely shadow his face. His hand seemed to shake as he wrote at a furious pace. Huh?

"Did you need something?" Arthur asked. He was surprised that his cold tone hadn't driven the stupid git out yet.

"Nah," Alfred said. He sprawled his arms out over the table and Arthur pulled his book closer to his body. "I was just gonna say hi and stuff."

"Stuff?" Arthur questioned.

"Oh hey, I just got that," Alfred said, pointing to Arthur's book. He reached down for his backpack and produced the book in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion. "Is it good? Wow you read a lot already. I've never seen a person read a school book for fun."

This guy became more annoying each second. "Well it's a nice read so far," Arthur commented. He looked down at his book and pretended to read. Just leave already! Can you not take a hint?!

"Well okay, I guess I'll take your word for it." He paused briefly. " So how's it going Kiku?

Kiku said nothing, and began scribbling faster.

"Well okay. I hope you guys can make it to the game next week. It's gonna be intense," Alfred said. He finally got up from the table.

"I regret to inform you that I do not wish to attend," Arthur said with a sarcastic air. "Good day."

"Um, well, bye," Alfred said suddenly looking a bit dejected. So he finally got the hint. Arthur pretended to ignore him as he turned and left the library.

Suddenly, Kiku threw down his pen and slammed his head on top of his books. He buried his head in his arms.

Arthur was quite perplexed at the outburst. "Uhh, are you alright?"

Kiku suddenly sat up and launched into a flustered exclamation in both English and Japanese. "Oh . . . no I'm just fine . . . Please excuse me. . ." Arthur thought he recognized the word Gomenazi? Gomenasi? Whatever the word for "sorry" was.

"Hey don't worry about it," Arthur said in a rather kind tone. He was amazed at how well he had hidden his shock. "But really, what that about?"

Kiku's face was very very red. "It's not important. We, me and that guy, we, we dated last year." He collapsed on the desk again. He gave out a muffled cry. "So embarrassing!"

"Why embarrassing, no, what happened?" Arthur said with concern. "Well you don't have to tell me I mean, it's none of my business." An awkward moment passed. "Um, sorry."

Kiku slowly got up and took a deep breath. Once he grew a bit calmer, he began his explanation.

"Well last year Alfred was someone I liked, and he was always very nice and talked to me even if I was new and my English wasn't as good. So I decided to confess, I don't know why I did such a thing. We just didn't make sense together I guess. I still liked him but he was loud while I was quiet. He had lots of friends while I just had a few. He liked to eat all these terrifying foods. We were wrong for each other."

"Well that's not terribly embarrassing," Arthur commented. "It just didn't work out."

"The embarrassing part was that I thought I could be with a person like Alfred," Kiku said in shame. "So vibrant and attractive and friendly. Why would that person want to be with plain, boring me?"

"That's absurd," Arthur said, annoyed. "There are all types of personalities and one is not better than another. Well that's not really true, some people are quite rude and mean-spirited, but I hope you see what I'm saying." Not to mention annoying people like Alfred.

Kiku took a moment to think, and then gave a soft smile. "Thank you, Arthur." He said. He then once again grew immersed in his work.

Spirit week turned out to be one annoying day after another. Arthur made a great point to not participate in any of the events. On Monday, everyone wore some sort of hat. Many students opted for the usual snapback. ("The bloody hell is a snapback?" Arthur ranted to Kiku. "It's just a normal hat!") The winner was some blonde boy from Finland who donned a massive Santa hat, completed with strands of battery powered Christmas lights. On Tuesday, all taste went out the window as both students and teachers dressed in some of the most hideous t-shirts Arthur had ever laid eyes on. There were countless bad Hawaiian tourist shirts, and grandma shirts with kittens on the front (though that was normal attire for much of the hipster crowd). Alfred won the contest in his American flag shirt. It was complete with images of soaring eagles and the Declaration of Independence.

"AMURICA!" Several students had shouted as Alfred recieved his grand prize: A jumbo bag of Skittles.

"THE BRITISH ARE COMING!" Another student cried as Arthur attempted to make his way through the hallway. The crowd burst into laughter and his mood worsened. He had just wanted to get to his fucking locker.

Wednesday was pajama day. As much as Arthur wanted to take the opportunity to just roll out of bed without bothering to get dressed, he refused. Kiku won for wearing a Rilakkuma onesie with Totoro slippers. Arthur was very surprised that he had participated. Kiku offered no explanation but offered Arthur some of his Skittles.

Thursday was so called "Silly Sock" day. Every student seemed to have on mismatching colorful kneesocks. Lili won for wearing pink striped knee socks that she had knitted herself.

Friday was class color day. Arthur couldn't even remember what the senior color was. He just dressed as normal in grey plaid pants, a white t-shirt, and a sleeveless gray sweatshirt. He was relieved he had narrowly missed dressing in the correct color.

Color day also implied the informal "Senior Slut" day. Every girl in his grade was dressed in some little black dress; some more tasteful than others. Elizaveta, dressed in a strapless black dress with a short, fluffy tulle skirt, proclaimed a winner: Yong Soo, who was dressed as a ninja. He accepted his Skittles and began doing the Gangnam Style dance, twirling his plastic nunchucks.

Mr. Evans confiscated the nunchucks and ordered Elizaveta to put a sweater on.

Arthur felt a huge sense of relief as he closed his locker at the end of the day. The moronic festivities were over. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and walked outside.

"Arthur," a voice called behind him.

Arthur spun around. "Oh, Kiku, hey."

"Walking home?"

"Yeah I don't live too far away. We can go together."

However, it turned out they were going in opposite directions.

"Oh well," Kiku said. "I will see you at the game then."

"Wait, you're going?" Arthur said in surprise. "I definitely wasn't going to go."

"Oh, please do," Kiku said. "I know it doesn't sound fun but when I was new, some people persuaded me to go. It was fun."

"Oh I don't know," Arthur said, suddenly conflicted.

"My friends make wonderful snacks. Won't you join us?"

Arthur weighed the options. He could go to the game and suffer through a whole idiotic game of American football or sit in his room alone. He could sit with Kiku's friends, people he didn't exactly know, or listen to his aunt's constant questioning: "Why are you home?" "Don't you have some friends to go be with?"

"Sure. I'll go," Arthur decided.

Kiku gave one of the brightest smiles Arthur had ever seen from him. "Great."

Arthur didn't really know what you were supposed to wear to a football game, probably school colors or something. Arthur didn't bother. He just threw on a heavier sweatshirt and a tan cargo jacket.

He walked to school and approached at the stadium, a bit uncertain of where to go. He quickly rushed past the stoners who were doing god knows what underneath the bleachers. He passed rows of concessions tents. Students shouted at him, advertising their food or club. He quickly walked past without making eye contact and entered the stadium.

The lights were absolutely blinding and Arthur wondered how he would possibly find Kiku. Searching the crowd was going to be an awkward task. He walked along the bottom of the bleachers very slowly, carefully scanning each row. Please let no one notice me here.

He found Kiku in the middle section. He waved to Arthur, inviting him to sit with him and his friends.

"Hello Arthur," he said. "Meet my friends."

"Very pleased to meet you," said a guy with a long, dark ponytail. He bowed. "Yao Wang."

"He's Chinese," Kiku mentioned. "Those two are Mei and Lien." He indicated to two girls who were looking at something on a pink phone with a huge pom pom phone strap adorned with sparkly charms.

"Haaaai!" one of the girls greeted. She was wearing a fluffy pink dress with lace tights and lavender platform shoes. "I'm MeiMei!"

The other girl was dressed far more simply in jeans and a school sweatshirt. She carefully brushed her bangs off of her face.

"This is Lien," Mei explained, wrapping her arms around the silent girl. "She's just quiet and that's okay. We were gonna take a picture just now you should take one too!"

"Perhaps later," Arthur said politely.

"Okay!"

Arthur left the girls to their photography.

"We have lots and lots of bentos," Kiku said, offering him a rice ball. Arthur gratefully accepted it. He wasn't overly experienced with Asian foods, but he figured it was good. He sat and looked around the stadium, taking bites of rice.

"Hey, what's this roped off section for?" Arthur asked, indicating to the ten empty rows of bleachers to their left.

"Oh that's for the marching band," Yao explained. "The whole reason we sit here is so we can talk to Yong Soo. He plays clarinet."

Speaking of the marching band, at that moment, they came marching out in two straight lines.

"Good evening folks, and welcome to the James K. Polk stadium," a voice boomed over the PA system. "Tonight is the James K. Polk homecoming game, to be played against Lafayette High School. At this time, we ask that you remove your caps and stand for the presentation of the colors and the national anthem, played by your very own James K. Polk Marching Eagles.

The crowd rose. The band director took one last sip from his 7 Eleven Big Gulp and raised his baton. The band played the star spangled banner, quite well, Arthur had to admit.

And then the game began. Arthur did not have a clue to what was going on. The only players he really knew were Alfred and Gilbert, and the helmets and uniforms made it impossible to find them.

There was a lot of commotion in the row next to him as the band filed into the rows. Yong Soo sat on the end of the row so that he was directly across the aisle from Yao.

"Oppa!" Mei exclaimed.

"You aren't Korean, Mei," Yao pointed out.

"So? I can call him oppa if I want to so he is oppa!"

"That's absolutely - DO I SEE A PANDA?!" Yao cried, catching a glimpse at the opposing team's mascot. He suddenly bolted down the bleachers and began to run around the track.

"Hi MeiMei!" Yong Soo called. He pulled his maroon shako off of his head. "These stupid hats suck! My hair is all sweaty!"

"Yong Soo, this is Arthur," Yao said, attempting to be a good host.

"Hi Arthur," Yong Soo said as he straightened his hair back into place. One stray strand seemed to have a mind of its own. Arthur wondered how a strand of hair had the power to defy gravity.

"Do you like the game?" Kiku asked, tapping Arthur on the shoulder.

"Uh, it's interesting." Arthur still could not make sense of what was going on.

"And there goes number 50, Alfred Jones," The announcer narrated. "He's running, ooh, nice pass to number 12! Wow a pass back to Jones - TOUCHDOWN!"

The crowd went absolutely wild. The band director once again had to set down his Big Gulp and hurriedly motioned for the band to get up. Yong Soo groaned and put his cards down (he had been playing poker with some other clarinets) and join in to play the fight song.

Alfred ran across the field, high fiving friends and waving to the crowd. Arthur rolled his eyes. Why did everyone care so much? It was just a game.

Well not everyone cared. The band had finished their song and resumed their card games and conversations. Yao had returned and was proudly showing off the picture he had someone take of him and the panda mascot. Mei and Lien were adding photo effects to their pictures and Yong Soo was trying to pressure Kiku into selling the rice balls off to student. "We could make a fortune!" He exclaimed. Two more quarters passed like this. More and more, Arthur realized that he wasn't doing anything. He wasn't talking or laughing. He had no interest in the game.

Arthur had never felt so alone.

"I'm going to go to the restroom," he announced, in case anyone cared. Arthur didn't even have to go to the bathroom. He didn't even know where it was. He just had no desire to sit there any longer.

"Okay," Kiku called. At least he did have one friend.

He eventually did find the bathroom. On the way back, he bumped into a thin guy with sandy hair. His wire glasses were knocked from his face.

"Aw shit," the guy said. He didn't seem too phased by it though.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Arthur said. He quickly spotted the glasses on the ground and retrieved them.

"Wow thanks man," the guy said as he put them back on his face. Arthur then recognized him as Alfred's friend. Matthew or something?

"Uh you're Matthew, right?" He asked carefully.

"Yeah!" Matthew said, weirdly excited. "You got it right. I didn't even think you knew me."

"I wasn't sure, but I'm glad it was right," Arthur admitted.

"Yeah that's cool. Most people never remember. I've been called Mathias, Marius, anything that starts with an M. Or worse, "Alfred's brother"."

"Wait," Arthur said in shock. "You two are brothers?"

"No!" Matthew exclaimed. "We just look alot alike. And I guess because we're good friends everyone thinks we're related."

"I guess so," Arthur said. Now that he had taken a good look, he had to admit that they did. At least their hair was the same color and they both wore glasses.

"Heading back? Matthew asked.

"Uh sure," Arthur said. For some reason, he didn't want to admit that he had been about to leave.

"Who are you with?"

"Uh Kiku and his mates."

"Really?" Matthew said. There was a brief pause. "That's interesting, I don't exactly picture you with his friends. Not that they're bad or anything, and I mean I barely even know you."

"You're right I suppose," Arthur admitted. "I can't say I hit off with them."

"Hey, sit with us then," Matthew suggested.

"Well alright," Arthur agreed. For someone who was best friends with Alfred, this guy was pretty cool.

Matthew led him to the top corner of the arrived just in time to watch Elizaveta be crowned homecoming queen. ("Of course," Matthew laughed.)

"Hey guys, Arthur's gonna sit with us," He announced.

"Oh yeah, him sure!"

"Hi Arthur!"

Arthur was quite surprised at a strange warm feeling that seemed to be flooding him. His mouth slowly broke into a smile. Acceptance? he guessed.

"Hi, I'm Tino," chimed a blond kid sporting a beret. "Skittles?" He asked, offering a bag. Oh yeah, the guy who won hat day.

"Thank you," Arthur said, taking a small handful. He took notice of a large camera hanging from Tino's neck. "You like photography?"

Tino chuckled. "Yeah, I'm in yearbook. It's supposed to be a night off for me but i really don't trust these freshman to get acceptable shots. I'll go down later to take some."

"Oh and this is Francis," Matthew said, indicating to a tall rather handsome man with a small, very messy blonde ponytail.

"Ah, bon soir, monsieur," Francis said in a breathy voice. Arthur was thoroughly creeped out.

"Uh, you too," he responded.

"And , Carriedo, number 14, passes to number 19 for another KPolk FIRSTDOWWWWWWN!"

"The announcer is far too into this," Arthur said unconsciously. To his surprise, everyone laughed.

"Wow Lovino, Antonio got so good!" Chimed a small, seemingly Italian kid a row below Arthur. He was cuddled up next to a rather muscular guy.

"Yeah I guess so," The guy on the other side of the Italian kid grumbled. "But he's still a bastard." The two began to speak in rapid Italian.

"That's Feliciano, the younger one, and Lovino," Matthew explained. "Oh and Ludwig Beilschmidt." He indicated to the fit guy.

"Wait, Beilschmidt?" Arthur asked. Like that moron who hung out with Alfred?

"Oh yeah, this is Gilbert's little brother."

"Wow," Arthur said, rather astonished. How different they seemed from each other.

"Agreed," Tino said. "Oh my what on Earth is Eduard doing to that camera. No, no, NO, he is never going to get the correct shot from that angle, EDUARD!" Tino called, jumped up and dashing towards the sideline.

"He takes his job seriously," Arthur commented.

"They do have a pretty scary editor in chief though," Matthew said. "Some Russian guy."

"Oh! An excellent pass from Beilschimdt to Jones - OHHH! He narrowly, dodges Lafeyette number 25, HE IS RUNNING FOR IT! HE NARROWLY ESCAPES, TOUCHDOWN!" The announcer shouted. The crowd once again erupted into cheers.

After Arthur sat down with Matthew and his friends, the game flew by quickly. They were an interesting bunch. Francis actually turned out to be quite tolerable, he was just a bit of a drama king. He appeared to be teasing Matthew in French, so Arthur thought they had a thing going. However, when Francis discovered that Arthur could understand French as well, he began to tease them both. The Italian brothers and the other Beilschmidt didn't pay much attention to them. Tino returned to the group looking disgruntled. He then took out his frustration by cheering at the team.

"OH COME ON YOU CALL THAT A PASS? That's right you better run! YEAH BERWALD! YEAAAAAHHHH, SHOW THAT FOOTBALL WHO'S BOSS!" (Berwald did end up scoring.)

The next time Arthur looked up at the clock, he was shocked to see that there were just five seconds left. He also noticed that the score was tied.

"YES PASS IT!" Tino bellowed. "NO NOT TO ANTONIO TO ALFRED! YES!"

Arthur really didn't understand football enough to understand what Tino was shouting about, but he did see Alfred racing across the field with the ball, surrounded by the black-and-white-clad Lafayette players. Just as everyone thought the opposition would nab him, Alfred jumped to the side and escaped.

"HE'S ESCAPED, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT FOLKS! HE PASSES THE 20 . . ."

"YEAH ALFRED!" Tino yelled, his voice still full of intensity. "DON'T FUCK THIS UP FOR US."

"3! 2! 1!"

". . . TOUCHDOWWWWWWNNN!"

The buzzer sounded and everyone in the stands leapt to their feet, absolutely overjoyed. Arthur, who was still seated, felt a bit silly. He stood up and Matthew swung an arm over his shoulder in celebration. Tino tried to do the same, but he was slightly too short and missed.

On the field, the Polk football players were ecstatic; Everyone was running, shouting, and body-slamming. A great pile-up formed on the 50. Arthur watched as they straightened themselves out and went to shake hands with the other team. Once that had been completed, the team lined up on the front sideline and raised their helmets in the air as the band began to play the alma mater.

Arthur felt kind of ridiculous. Here he was watching a high school football team raise their helmets like Olympic torches, beaming with pride while the high school marching band played a terribly cheesy song. And yet, he felt like it was important. He would always remember this moment and how he was a part of it. Beside him was a group of rather strange (and sometimes embarrassing) people, but he had had a lot of fun with them.

Somehow Matthew persuaded Arthur to go down to the field with the rest of the group. A regrettable choice, in Arthur's eyes. What was he going to do, stand awkwardly next to Matthew the whole time while he greeted people? Besides, it was cold out now. He wanted to head home to a nice cup of tea.

Their group had passed by a few Lafayette players on the way out to the field.

"Did you SEE that guy?"

"Alfred? Yeah, he's really good, no match for us."

"I totally expected him to be a jerk, but he was so nice to everyone when we shook hands. Most teams these days just like to trash talk everybody."

The group dispersed when they approached the team. Tino went first to Berwald, the tall, somewhat intimidating guy he had been cheering for, then to some guy with a blonde bowl cut (Eduard?) and began inquiring about photos. Ludwig and Feliciano had found Gilbert, who was now pinching his brother's cheek. The other Italian kid, (Lovino?) was listening grumpily to a very happy Spanish guy. Francis flitted off, in hopes that he would be able to embarrass Gilbert in front of Elizaveta.

That left Matthew and Arthur. "Um, I don't exactly know anyone," Arthur pointed out.

"Well I'll introduce you," Matthew said.

At that moment, Alfred came bounding over to them, and proceeded to tackle Matt to the ground. Arthur stood, motionless.

"YEAH! THAT'S RIGHT!"

"You'll pay for that man. Gross, you're sweaty."

They both got to their feet. Alfred's eyes widened upon seeing Arthur. He was not wearing his glasses, probably to ensure that they wouldn't get broken.

"Whoaaa you came? How was it?!" This guy was far too excited.

"Alright I suppose," Arthur commented, not making eye contact.

"But was it fun?"

Arthur didn't want to lie in front of Matthew after he had been so nice to him. "It was nice I suppose."

"Well good." What was this guy grinning about? Sure he had just scored the winning goal (wait was it called a goal?) but he literally smiled all the time.

"Wanna come celebrate with us?" Alfred asked.

"That's nice of you, but I'm quite exhausted," Arthur said. "I'd like to go home. Bedtime, you know?"

"Too much excitement for one night, huh?" Alfred said. "Too bad."

Arthur wasn't really sure what to say next. He found himself staring blankly at Alfred, who stood tall in his blue and maroon football uniform. Illuminated under the stadium lights, his blue eyes shone. His skin glistened with sweat, but somehow it wasn't gross. It was the evidence of hard work and determination, which Alfred wore with pride.

It wasn't until Arthur noticed the puzzled expression that had came across Alfred's face that he realized what he was doing.

"Uh, yeah so good night and congratulations, I really don't understand this game but supposedly you're a real champ at it so good on you. Good night Alfred," He rambled. He began backing away.

Just as he had turned around, he again heard Alfred's voice behind him.

"Arthur, just know that I'm glad you came. And that you had fun."

Though he had been quite keen on going home and going straight to bed, Arthur found himself lying awake for hours.

_"Just know that I'm glad you came."_


End file.
